Getting Dressed
by Saskia Mitchell
Summary: Hee hee, a fun little piece of fluff about the dangers of getting dressed. NSR, enjoy!


Getting Dressed

By: Saskia Mitchell Van Allen

Rating: PG-13, for language. 

Notes: The absolute shortest thing I've ever written.

"Shit!" 

"Damn it! What in the hell?" 

"It's your pager," Nick mumbled into his pillow. 

Sara grabbed her pager off of the night table and stared, bleary-eyed, at the bright green display. 

"Now yours is going off," she grumbled when a matching beep blared through the pre-dawn hours of Nick's dark bedroom. 

"Doesn't Grissom know we have the night off?" Nick groused, rising and swinging his bare legs over the side of the mattress. He grabbed his pager and muted the sound. "It's an emergency out in Henderson." 

Shit!" Sara cursed again as she stubbed her toe on the end of the footboard. She shimmied into her panties, then grabbed her bra where it had been discarded on the armchair in the corner. 

"Where are my pants?" Nick mumbled, yawning, searching through the pile of clothes on the floor. 

"Boxers first," she picked them up from the armchair also and slingshot them across the room and into the crook of his elbow. Finding Sara's pants, he tossed them to her, but they fell limply at her feet, as she was still trying to get both of her breasts into the cups of her bra. As she clasped it shut, she reached down and hopped around, trying to get her foot in the proper leg of her jeans. 

"Hurry." Nick pulled up his pants also, and buttoned them up, then yawned again as he reached into his dresser drawer for a pair of socks. 

"Can I have a clean pair?" Sara asked, her voice more husky than usual since she wasn't even fully awake yet. Nick sent a pair of white socks flying in her direction, and she sat down unsteadily on the edge of the bed to put them on. He sat down opposite her and they both pulled on socks and boots quickly.

Nick's pager went off again, and he cursed as he silenced it. Next was Sara's. She offered a matching sigh, and clipped the pager to her belt before clasping it on around her waist. 

"Shirt?" she yawned as Nick bent over again to sort through their clothes at the foot of the bed. 

"Here," he handed hers to her and put his on, then grabbed his Kevlar vest off the floor. "Come on, let's go." 

"Nick, we have to swing by my place and get the Tahoe," Sara said as she grabbed her own vest and followed Nick out into the living room. 

"Can't babe, no time," he grabbed his watch off the kitchen counter and she found hers on the coffee table. 

"We have to, we can't show up together. We both have the night off." 

"We don't have time, Sar, it's a 911." 

"Nick," her voice was a warning. 

"We'll just tell them I had to pick you up," Nick opened the door for her and she stood on the porch as he locked it behind them. "Your Tahoe has...a flat." 

"Good lie, babe," Sara said, rolling her eyes as she got in the passenger seat of Nick's truck. 

"Yeah, here to protect and serve," he shrugged with a wry grin as he fired up the ignition. 

*~*~*~*~*

"Hey guys, we got a rapid decomp," Catherine shouted as they both approached the scene. 

Sara grabbed the camera and began shooting pictures at every possible angle. 

"Is that acid?" she didn't break from her task. 

"All over the body," Catherine informed as she collected samples. "Double-glove it," she instructed Nick, tossing him a pair of thick rubber kitchen gloves. 

"No glove, no love," Nick smirked as he too, grabbed several glass containers to begin taking samples from underneath the body that was being eaten up by acid so rapidly that they could no longer make a positive visual ID of the body. 

"Sara always has to get the decomps," Warrick arrived, and began pulling on gloves immediately. "Where is Grissom?" 

"On his way," Catherine called out over her shoulder. "Don't forget the goggles, Warrick." 

Warrick began searching the surrounding area for bullet casings and shoe prints. Catherine leaned back on her haunches to survey the mess before her. She looked over at Sara, who was now also on her knees in front of the body, still snapping photos. 

"Hey, Sara, your shirt is on inside out," she offered as she stood up. 

Sara shot Nick an embarrassed look over the body. They both stood up as well, realizing with disappointment that there was nothing more they could do. They watched as David administered a base solution to the corpse that neutralized the decomposition.

"Thanks, Cat, I was in a hurry," Sara mumbled. Catherine nodded and headed back to the truck. 

"You're not the only one," Warrick rejoined them. He slung an arm around Nick's shoulder and pointed to his utility vest. "CSI Sidle," he leered pointedly at Nick. Sara looked down at her vest and realized Nick's badge was attached to the vest she was wearing, which meant that he had to be wearing hers.

They both flushed about eight shades of red as Warrick ambled back over to Catherine, chuckling. 

"We have GOT to stop getting dressed in the dark." 

FINIS


End file.
